From a Murderers Eyes
by wolfxcall
Summary: Various tales from the povs of the Phoenix Wright murderers.
1. Mimi Miney

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Ace Attorney games, nor do I own the characters.**

**One-shots of different pov's of the killers. **

Everyone thinks I'm dead. But that's not true, right… Ini?

I brushed my hair, trying crossly to flatten that one strand that always refused to lay down with the rest of my perm. I crammed my hat on to hide the imperfection, smiling daftly at my reflection in the mirror.

"Hi, I'm, like, Ini Miney." I said slowly, allowing my face to contort into my younger sister's silly expression. "I'm, like, studying, like, the occult. Like, spirit mediums and stuff, you know?" I practiced every day in an attempt to recreate my sister's essence. My reasoning was simple; after all, I was supposed to be dead.

I used to be called Mimi Miney. I was a nurse at Grey Surgical Clinic, but I was forced to "retire" after a malpractice incident last year. The accident was not my fault, it was all that doctors! He had always worked me to the bone, sometimes forcing me to go overtime without pay, the tyrant. He doesn't care about his employees, as others can contest to, but when his reputation is put in danger, he'll do anything he can to shift the blame to others. He caused the crash too, not me. I'm pretty sure he spiked my water or something with a sleeping drug, and that's why… why… I don't want to remember what happened. "I" died during that, and I was given the chance to live my sister's life for her… so I did. I threw away Mimi, and I took on my sister's face. I became Ini, even though the memories of my life, Mimi's life, still haunt me to this day.

I finished getting ready and tugged my bag over my shoulder, pausing to put my textbook inside. I shivered, thoroughly annoyed with the whole affair. My cell phone rang and I picked it up, eager for an excuse to be late for another history class. "Hello?"

"Hello, my name is Dr. Turner Grey. Am I speaking to Ini Miney?"

My blood froze. "Uh, yeah, didn't Mimi, like, work for you before?"

"Yes, Mimi Miney was a nurse at my clinic. An incompetent nurse, but a nurse nonetheless."

I stiffened. "Like, I'd, like, really appreciate it if you, like, didn't say stuff like that, you know?"

"It doesn't matter anyway." I frowned, it mattered to me. "You study the occult, right? For example, spirit channeling?" His voice was eager in my ear, and I couldn't help but grin along with his enthusiasm.

"Like, yeah, I know channeling. Like, why?" I could predict what he wanted, but I had to stay silent or he would suspect something.

"Miss Miney, do you think you could help me set up a channeling of your older sister?"

I stared ahead, the beginning of a plan forming in my head. "Like, sure, I, like, know the perfect place. It's called Medium Valley, just two hours away by train. I'll, like, contact them and, like, get back to you, okay?"I hung up, trying to hold back my tears. Finally, the chance to avenge my sister had arrived, after a year of waiting.

I called the number in the back of my textbook.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Morgan Fey? My name is Ini, Ini Miney, and I need your help with something…"

**A/N: Wow, that was a lot more fun to write than I thought it was going to be. Please review! Thanks for reading! Love you guys 333!**


	2. Frank Sahwit

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Ace Attorney games or characters. Just this take on their stories.**

Frank Sahwit

He could never get over the paranoia he felt when he was doing his "job". There was always a possibility, the slightest chance, that he would be caught in the act, and then he wasn't quite sure what he would do. He never planned it to happen the way it did, that day. He rang doorbell after doorbell, listening intently for rustling behind the door, and when there was silence, well, then he would be quite happy. He would reach into his back pocket and pull out the card, or the bobby pin if necessary, and would easily pick the lock. Then, the world was his oyster.

Frank Sahwit was very good at what he did. He knew from experience that it would be best to take one thing, and only one thing, from each place he hit. Then the people would be less likely to report the robbery to the police, and they would be less likely to warn the neighbors. He would slip in unnoticed, and would slip out again in a matter of minutes, after grabbing the smallest and most valuable thing he could see within reach. He wouldn't hesitate to relock the door, and then he could continue on his way.

Of course, there were the people that actually answered the door, and then Frank became Mr. Sahwit, newspaper salesman. He would wring his hands and smile, trying to convince the people to subscribe to his company's paper. Truthfully, there was no paper, and there was no company, but the poor saps didn't know that. And no one would buy a subscription from a door-to-door salesman, so he knew he wouldn't be caught.

He knocked, yet again, on another door in the area. He could hear shuffling inside, probably some kids home from school that weren't going to answer the door. He was fine with that though, he wouldn't be able to do anything anyway.

He turned away from the doorway and froze. A scruffy looking kid was leaving the room further down the hall. The kid was wearing some kind of orange sport jacket, something that made Frank cringe at the obnoxiousness. The kid looked around, almost guiltily, before adjusting his jacket again and strolling off. The door was left wide open, and Frank smiled darkly.

He strolled up to the open doorway after the kid had turned the corner. After a quick glance around, he determined that the apartment was empty, and he walked in happily. The room was well stocked, leading him to believe that it wasn't the kid that lived there. Frank shook his head, trying to disconnect from the boy he saw, trying to focus on the job. He looked around again and noticed a strange statue on the table.

It was small, but kind of elegant, a statue of the Thinker. It sat on a marble base, about five inches square. The statue itself was probably a foot tall at best, and Frank lifted it to test the weight.

It wasn't terribly heavy for a statue, but it felt sturdy, and he gripped it tightly in his hands. A shuffle behind him shocked him, and he spun with the statue still in hand.

He found himself to be facing a small woman, pretty, but not exceptional. He figured quickly she was the true owner of the apartment, and he watched in increasing fear as she opened her mouth in shock.

Not really thinking, not feeling, he raised the statue above his head. It seemed to fall on its own, bashing against the woman's head and bringing her crashing to the ground. Blood quickly spread across the floor, covering Sahwit's shoes.

_I think it's one o'clock._

**A/N: This was fun! Hope you stick with it! Thank you so much for reading, everyone! I'm gonna stick with the order of the trials from now on, so up next... Redd White! (that's going to be interesting *gulp*) See you then! Love you guys!**


	3. Redd White

Redd White

The plan was simple. Elegant, really. I knew from the start that I would need something of this caliber to prevent my secret from getting out.

My secretary, April May, would do most of the work. She would lay the trap, and would take the fall if anything went amiss. I held her, and half of my company, in the palm of my hand, so it was all too easy to "borrow" a wiretap from my storerooms. After that, it was child's play.

We rented a room in the hotel across the street from the Fey and Co. Law Offices. The Gatewater Hotel, I believe it was. I couldn't help but notice the inappropriate interest the bellboy showed in Miss May, and I hoped that she would be able to take advantage of that interest later in the nighttime.

We did not do much that night. I do have a reputation to keep, after all. I perused the newspaper while Miss May listened in on the happenings at the Office. We could see the window from our own, so it was a marvelous set up. We must have spent hours in that same situation before Miss May finally exclaimed with delight that she had heard something relevant to our investigation, and then the true plan began to form. I knew I would need to go myself to the Office, we could not risk having Miss May be tied to both crimes that were to be committed. I had participated in the downfall and eventual deaths of many people before, so I felt no qualms when the next night rolled around.

The foolish girl had left the door unlocked and open, and I easily slipped into the office unnoticed. She played the part of the victim well, acting as if she had no idea what I was searching for. Then, when her lie was stripped and shown for what it really was, she attempted to flee, breaking some glass light stand that really was ineffectual in bringing some charm to her drab office.

Pinned against the windowsill and with no other place to flee to, I finally had her in my grasp. She pleaded with me, of course, begging for her life, but I knew that if I allowed her to continue on with her mediocre existence, she would use her power with the law to track me down once again. I could not allow this wild goose chase to continue on any longer.

The clock felt heavy in my hand, even though I knew it was filled with paper instead of its usual clockwork. I admit, I did vacillate at the idea of murder for a second. I had forced people to death many times in the past, but the overall feeling of the act was much different when it was I who swung the ax, so to speak. But I knew I had no choice, and I put my full power behind the blow, bringing the corner of the ridiculousity that was a clock down on her head.

As a final assurance that I would not be suspected, I used her finger to write a simple message on a scrap of paper in her pocket. I easily recalled the name of the girl she spoke to the day before, the one who had affectionately referred to the now-cooling- corpse beside me as "Sis." I wondered for the slightest second whether the good police would be able to establish a true motive, then I shook off the absurd idea. What was I thinking? All I had to worry about was that I would not be connected with the murder in any way.

I rifled through her documents, careful to remove all the papers related to me and my company. Any evidence she had on me is now gone, burned in the fires of my industrial incinerator.

I sit at my desk now, reflecting on that night. It was only a few days ago, and now, against my very will and request, I have been called to testify in court about the man I have now pinned as her "murderer." I recall that night again, using my three favorite colors to sum up the black events I had to dirty my hands with.

Red blood. White skin. Blue shadows.


	4. Dee Vasquez

Dee Vasquez

Dee was bored out of her mind. She didn't mind meetings terribly, but there was something to say about having to sit through a bunch of studio bigwigs talking about possible fund cuts, and about dragging the Steel Samurai a bit longer, and listening to Sal's stomach growling like a bear next to her definitely didn't help anything. She wished she could call her mobsters to just break the whole thing up, but she knew that would pose some problems. Sighing, she flipped open a notebook and began to jot down new ideas for the next episode of the Steel Samurai, knowing that Sal would update her on what she missed when the meeting was over. Always diligent, he began to scribble notes on the pad in front of him as soon as he noticed Dee had tuned out. One of the bigwigs grunted and announced a lunch break, much to both Dee and Sal's evident pleasure.

Exiting the trailer, Dee was greeted with a sight that made her blood run cold. The Steel Samurai, Hero of Neo Olde Tokyo, was standing, no, posing before the trailer. He seemed to be waiting for someone, and his grip on the Samurai Spear looked less than friendly.

"Powers, what do you want? Don't you know we're in an important meeting right now?" Dee drawled.

"Will's taking a bit of a nap right now, and you're obviously on break Miss Vasquez." The voice from the costume was not that of Will Powers, and Dee immediately knew what the situation was.

"Hammer? Isn't it a little odd to steal that costume just to come and visit me? What do you want?"

His voice, she would always remember how it sounded when he spoke. His last words were utterly calm, the eye of a hurricane aimed right at her.

"Miss Vasquez, I've come for revenge against you, and against all that you've forced me to do for the past five years. It's time for you to meet the same fate as your dear…"

"Don't you dare say his name!" Her cool was lost now, but he didn't care. He stalked across the dirt road, raising the spear to attack. Advancing on Vasquez by climbing the stairs, he was almost upon her when she reached out and

pushed.

The sound was the second thing that haunted her now, in the small cell she would be forced to spend the rest of her time in. The mixture of a thump and a squelch, a disgusting, vile sound that echoed in the stone chamber.

Dee wrapped her arms around her legs, sobbing silently.


End file.
